Deep Moat Grange

by S. R. Crockett

  CHAPTER XXXV

  THE WITNESSING OF MISER HOBBY

  "_The Witnessing and last statement of Me, Howard Stennis, sometimeweaver to my trade, afterwards laird of the lands of 'Deep MoatGrange,' near Breckonside--to which is added my last Will in my ownhandwriting_.

  "I, HOWARD STENNIS, being of sound mind, and desiring that after mydeath nothing should be left uncertain, have decided to put on recordall that has occurred. This I do, not in the least to exculpatemyself, because what I have done, I have done calmly and with intentionaforethought.

  "This paper is for the sole use of the heir whom I shall choose.

  "If it be his will not to accept a fortune accumulated under theseconditions or in the way I made mine, I have joined to this a paperwith the names of those to whose heirs reparation can be made. But itis my present intention to seek rather some strong man, at war withother men--a hater of his kind, as I have good reason to be--who willcontinue my work after I am gone. So that in time, if the life of ourinstrument, Jeremy Orrin, be spared, one of the greatest fortunes ofthe age may be built up.

  "From my youth I was called Miser Hobby. And that most unjustly.Because I wrought day and night that I might leave my one daughter Bellin a position of a lady. But she chose to throw my lifetime's work inmy face. She left me without a word for a penniless boy in a uniform.My heart had been black and bitter before, but there had always been abright spot upon it. That was Bell. Afterward it became blackaltogether, for I cast Bell out of my heart and sight like an untimelybirth. I worked harder, yet for all that I wearied of the work. To berich suddenly, to have all in my power, and to deny to Bell and hertramping rascal of a redcoat a sup of broth, a bite of bread--thatalone I counted sweet. It would come to me some day, I knew.

  "I looked about for a weapon--for the hand to strike. This I found inJeremy Orrin. It was at the Tryst of Longtown, whither I had gone todeliver a web. There I saw a limber youth, very dark, turningsomersaults on a scrap of carpet. He spread out his hands and walkedon them. There was hair on the palms. The thumb was as long as thefingers, and he raised himself upon them as on steel springs. I sawhim take a byre 'grape'--or fork of three thick prongs--and bend thethree into one by the mere strength of one hand.

  "Then that set me thinking of other things that these fingers might betaught to do. So, in a little inn, I made the tumbler's acquaintance,and I could see that at first he eyed me curiously. I could read suchlooks. I knew the wickedness that was in his heart. He meant tomurder me on my way home!

  "But first I gave him to drink as much as he would. Suddenly I turnedmy pockets inside out and let him feel the linings of my coat--there inthat lighted room, to prove that he would not be twopence halfpenny thericher by the transaction. Then, leaning forward as if jesting, I madea proposition. By himself, I said, such a man could do but little. Hewas but a tracked beast without a den. See what it had brought him to,tumbling on a carpet for a living, and hungry withal! I would give himsafety, a position, the high road between two market towns, neither ofthem yet reached by the railway, running before our very door.

  "Finally, on the doorstep of the Red Lion, holding unstably by eitherlintel, a warning to all sober men like myself, I pointed out Riddickof Langbarns, who, as I knew, had that day sold his two-year-old horsesto the tune of eight hundred pounds!

  "Jeremy Orrin and I left the lighted town behind us. I am well awareeven then that I put my life in his hands--how terrible was my danger Idid not know. For the young man's wayward madness was as yet hiddenfrom me, as from all the world except his elder sister. At the WindySlap, a narrow wind-swept gully, and a wild enough scene at the best oftimes, I came out suddenly, and speaking to Riddick, who was onhorseback, asked him civilly if he would need any sheets or tableclothsthat year. For that I was making out my winter's orders. He knew meat once, and bade me get out of his sight for an arrant self-seekingmiser that would keep a shivering man from a good glass of toddy at hisown fireside!

  "Then I lowered my prices till he checked his horse beside a bank (forI had been walking by his side), and while he strove to calculate costand rebate in his drink-dozened brain, Jeremy quietly leaped up frombehind, and clasped about his neck the broad-palmed, long-fingered,hairy hands that had crushed the byre trident. Riddick of Langbarnsnever spake word. We buried him decently in the kirkyard--in a gravethat had that day been filled, laying him on the coffin of a better manthan himself--even that of Ephraim Rae, elder in the HardgateCameronian Kirk. Face down we laid him--his nose to the nameplate--and so filled in and replaced the sods. It was very secure--anidea of my own. No disturbance of the earth, or none that mattered.For who would ever seek for a lost man in the grave, where, that sameday, another had been laid with all due funeral observances? It wouldbe sacrilege. Afterwards, when we used this method, I always tried tobe present at both interments. In fact, I got a name for my reverenceand exactitude at burials. Also it gave me some useful thoughts uponthe transitory nature of all things. Besides, I liked to watch themourners' daylit faces and then think of Jeremy's twelve hours later,seen perhaps by the light of a late-rising, cloudy, out-worn moon!

  "Good fortune such as this (the timely burial of Elder Rae, that is) wecould not always depend upon. But as far as possible, of course, wearranged our business transactions so that they fell due on the day ofa funeral, either at Over Breckonton or Breckonside. Bewick was of nouse to us--the graveyard there having the fatal fault of being placedunder the windows of the manse, and the minister being a bachelor, whonever cared whether he went to bed at all or not, keeping his lightburning till three of the morning. Such men have no right to beministers. Still, for the time being, the other two parishes served usvery well.

  "I saw, however, that a change was becoming necessary, indeedimperative. Also, thanks to a certain drover of the name of LangHutchins, I had the money. It was most providential (I shall always soregard it) that at this very time the place and policies of Deep MoatGrange came into the market.

  "Lang Hutchins was a pure windfall--a catch of Jeremy's. I had nothingto do with that. One night Jeremy walked into the weaving-room with agreat leathern pocket-book.

  "'Where did you get that?' I asked. I was, I remember, at the loom,and the pattern being an interesting one, the time had passed withoutmy regarding its flight. It was, as a matter of fact, past one of themorning.

  "'Lang Hutchins, the Bewick drover, gied it to me,' said Jeremy Orrin,'and as there were nae funerals in Breckonside, and that minister manat Bewick willna put his candle oot, I had e'en to make Lang Hutchinsup a bonnie bed in the gairden at the Grange o' the Moat!'

  "I rose instantly to my feet. This was indeed terrible. I had avision (which I have often seen in reality since) of Jeremy scratchingthe earth with his fingers, and creeping about on the black soil likesome unclean beast, leaving marks easy to be read by the firstpasser-by. We should be discovered. Jeremy would be tracked, and Isaw in appalling perspective two gibbets, and on one the murderer, andon the other his master--the same Miser Hobby who had thought to make alady of his daughter; now Howard Stennis, Esquire--both raised to thedignity of the hempen cravat.

  "For a moment I did not know what to do--yes, even I, to whom plansoccur like oaths to a bad, foul-mouthed, swearing man such as LangHutchins, one who had defied his Maker the very day his soul, wasrequired of him.

  "'Buried in the garden at Deep Moat Grange!' I repeated to myself.'The place out of habitation, a prey to every poacher, the gardens andorchards overrun by vagrant boys!' Ah--even in that word it had cometo me!

  "Deep Moat Grange was for sale! But then I had not enough money to buyit, and I could not face the raising of a mortgage--the possiblescrutinies! At that moment Jeremy Orrin tossed carelessly at me along, many-caped overcoat, such as long-distance coachmen used to wearin the days when twice a day the 'Dash' and the 'Flying Express' passedBreckonside, and I was a boy in knee breeches and a blue bonnet. Icould feel that the coat was well padded thou
gh not heavy. And therein the weaving-room of the little cottage, I drew out of the lininghundreds and hundreds of packets of five-pound notes, all English, andmostly long in use, like those which pass from hand to hand amongdrovers. I could see that no one of them had recently been in a bank.There would, therefore, be no awkward record of the numbers. Moreover,Lang Hutchins had come north suddenly (so Jeremy told me) after quite ayear of running the southern markets.

  "It was as safe as could be--all but the garden plot at Deep MoatGrange, where in one particular oblong the earth had been raked withthe split and blackened nails of Jeremy's fingers.

  "After that, there was no letting that spot out of our sight till I hadgot the lawyer work finished--I mean that of the vendor'srepresentatives of Deep Moat Grange. I was my own lawyer and factor,that is, so far as the district was concerned. I had a kinsman inEdinburgh who went over all the agreements and so on, for me, just tosee that everything was in order.

  "All the time I was away Jeremy watched, resolved that if any onemanifested overmuch interest in the scratched soil at the bottom of thelawn where the rhododendrons begin, he or she should find a quietresting-place beside them. But, barring one slight accident, into thedetails of which I deem it useless to enter (being but a poor man andnot worth in the gross three solvent halfpence) no one looked near thelawn or the old orchard.

  "At last Deep Moat Grange was mine. Deep Moat Grange was paid for inuntraceable money--I had examined every note. Jeremy and I moved in,and having heard all that he had to say about his sister Aphra, I senta hundred pounds to her--and our address. Jeremy said that would bringher. We felt--or at least I, who knew the ways and thoughts, thechatterings and clatterings of Breckonside, felt that there was needfor a good, careful, managing woman there. From what Jeremy told me, Iwas certain that Euphrasia Orrin was that woman.

  "She was. I could not have chosen better. Yet, for all that, themadman had deceived me in the way that all such have, with a cunningfar above that of sane and grave persons, such as myself.

  "Euphrasia or Aphra Orrin (as she was called) arrived in a few days.But she brought with her three hare-brained sisters, concerning whom,if their brother had breathed so much as one word, neither Aphra norany of them should ever have set foot within my door. I should haveclaimed my granddaughter, at that time cared for by a decent workingwoman named Edgar--and for whose upkeep I subscribed according to mymeans. I should have taken her, I say, and trained her up to fulfil myneeds. Between us, Jeremy and I could have done it.*

  * "I say nothing of the return and death of my daughter Bell. Savethat she left the parish and returned burdened with a brat, her cominghad no interest for me, though the neighbours made a foolish work aboutit, going so far as to give me an ill name on account of my treatmentof her!"

  "But Aphra was a clever woman, and as soon as I saw her, and as soon asshe had spoken with Jeremy, I knew for certain that there would be noturning her out. She meant to stay at Deep Moat Grange, and stay shewould and did, she and her yelping litter of she-whelps. Of her I onlyasked one thing, that she should confine their vagaries to the spacecontained between the pond and the moat. The house had now been putinto some repair, the drawbridge restored, and we were safe within ourown guards and barriers. As for the country clatter, we took no heedto that. Besides, whenever there was a fair or promising market, itwas agreed that (for my character's sake) I should be found with mylawyer in Edinburgh, or in the company of some other decent, produciblepeople.

  "The advantages of the Grange for our business are manifold. Firstly,should this fall into the hands of a successor actuated by a likehatred of humanity and lack of moral prejudice, and supposing him to beserved by the same able though irresponsible tools which I have used, Iwould point out that from either road, that to Bewick to the right orthat through the woods to Longwood on the left, there is direct watercarriage to the secluded lawn beneath Deep Moat Grange. In case ofnecessity, supposing that the 'accident' has befallen on the Bewickroad, you can load your boat by the bridge near to the darkest part ofthe wood behind the Bailiff's houses, and then, sculling lightly, youare carried all the way by the current of the Backwater without leavinga trace. If the game has been played on the highway to the right, thenthere is equally good going across the pond. It is recommended thatthe boat, being probably heavily burdened, should return by the northside, where I have planted certain rows of weeping willows, which notonly afford a grateful shade, but are seemly in the circumstances.

  "It was, however, Miss Orrin (a clever woman in her way) who had thebest idea as to the final disposition of the frail but compromisingrelicts of mortality, thus appropriately transported under my weepingwillows to their final resting beds. She made perennial flower pots ofthem, and nowhere could be seen such display of varied beauty as sheobtained from cold, useless clay!

  "Personally, I have always been opposed to the general uselessness ofgraveyards and cemeteries. Nothing is better suited to enrich the soilthan the material which Jeremy supplied. It is far before phosphates,about which there has been so much talk these last years. So I wasgreatly content when Miss Orrin--to whom of necessity I had to confidethe secret of Jeremy's unfortunate tendencies, in order that she mightuse her influence to direct it for our mutual advantage--discovered ameans at once of security and of utility by planting masses of liliesin heart-shaped plots all about, wherever Jeremy had found it necessaryto disturb the soil. I believe that Miss Orrin attached some subtlemeaning to the lilies. Indeed had I not prevented her, she would evenhave made the plots of the shape and size of coffins--which certainlyshows a trace of the family failing.

  "But this was, of course, impossible. I had, how ever, good reason tobe content with our new arrangement. The old, difficult (thoughperfectly safe) interment in a doubly tenanted grave, with all itsannoyances of being on the spot myself, of scaling walls and keepingJeremy to his labour, was all done away with. Deep Moat certainlybecame, as it were, a self-contained factory for spinning the moneywhich is the god of this world. Ah, it was a peaceful and a happytime. Within and without, everything went like clockwork. I began tobe respected, too--at a certain distance from home, that is. For I hadtaken care to engage the simplest and honestest soul in the world formy grieve or bailiff, and when Jeremy and I were not out on our moreimmediate business, Simon Ball and I frequented markets and bought allthat was necessary for the home farm. To be exact, he bought and Ipaid.

  "But the beginning of evil days was at hand. I have always noticed it.Man cannot long be left in peace, even among the most favouredsurroundings. Now I was doing no harm to any soul or body in all thesurrounding parishes. Instead I did what good I could--spoke fairlyand civilly, contributed freely to charities, helped more than one ofmy impoverished neighbours. But I will not conceal it from mysuccessor (who alone is to read this manuscript) that all my good willwas in vain, so far as gaining the affection and respect of thecountryside was concerned. Yet for this, personally, I can conceive noreason. Those whom Jeremy took charge of were invariablystrangers--men of loud, brawling character, generally semi-drunkards,trampling all laws of a quiet and respectable demeanour under theirfeet.

  "While I myself, giving shelter to these poor creatures, the sistersOrrin--who without me would have been hunted from city to city--I,Howard Stennis, whose only dissipation or distraction was to weave thethronging fancies of flower and fruit into my napery--was no betterrespected than an outlaw dog. They called me the Golden Farmer, but itwas with a sneer. None would willingly linger a moment to speak withme, not so much as one of Bailiff Ball's tow-headed urchins. If one ofthem met me in a lonesome path, as like as not he would set up a howland dodge between my legs, running, tumbling, and making the welkinring, as if I had been some black evil bogie!

  "Yet, I am a man who all his life has loved children, and (with a fewexceptions) carefully observed the courtesies as between man and man.When I consider how I have been served by friends and neighbours, manyof whom I have repeatedly o
bliged, I am filled with surprise that Ihave kept the sphere of my operations so remote from my insulters. Butthen I have always, save perhaps in the case of my daughter Bell, beena forgiving man. Even now I cherish no enmity against those whosemachinations have caused me to be suspected.

  "It was about this time, when the first-planted lilies were beginningto sprout for the third season, that Jeremy, nosing, as usual, here andthere, discovered the ancient underground rooms across the drawbridge.Immediately I saw the use they would be to us. Having been wellbrought up myself, I had always regretted the necessity of sending somany, mostly careless and godless men, to their account unwarned andunprepared. Such of them as could be induced to disgorge further sumsof money besides those carried on their bodies might at least have somespace for reflection and repentance. What I did not foresee was thatthe Orrins, with their low, mad-folks' cunning, would make use of thesenests of chambers and hiding-places for their own ends, and therebyendanger everything which I had so wisely and so laboriously thoughtout.

  "But for all that it was, as I have said, the beginning of the evildays.

  "And as usual it was owing to my own carelessness. I have enoughcommon sense to know that, nine times out of ten, men have themselvesto thank for the misfortunes which befall them. It is only the bornfool who goes from house to house and from friend to friend maunderingabout ill luck and an unkind Providence. Good luck, at least, isgenerally only the art of looking a good way ahead.

  "I was away in Edinburgh, for the almanac told us that we wereapproaching the date of the Bewick Wakes. Jeremy was to make theacquaintance of a certain Lammermuir farmer with a well linedpocket-book. The lily bed, under which he was to lie, would just havemade out Miss Aphra's pattern neatly--a thing concerning which she wasmost particular. I will not give his name; if this falls into thehands of a worthy successor he may one day scent the 'shot' out forhimself. He speaks broad Lammermuir, wears glasses hooked round hisears, like a college professor, and generally has cut himself whileshaving in more than one place. But at any rate he had a respite forthe time being.

  "For, without my knowledge, and quite apart from all my well-ordereddesigns, Jeremy in a mad, fierce fit fell suddenly upon the mailcarrier betwixt Breckonside and Bewick. Very early in the morning itwas done, and the place unsuitable and quite unsafe, being close by thebailiff's cottage. But that was not the worst. The mare belonging tothe carrier postman (I knew him well, a decent quiet man, Henry Fosterby name) ran wide and wild, made a circuit of the Deep Moat propertyand turned up in front of the school-house at Breckonside, the mail gigall blood and leaves, just as the innocent bairns were going in to saytheir morning's lessons.

  "The rest of the business Jeremy had carried through well enough. Hehad sculled the body of Foster, properly covered with bark andbrushwood, and laid it comfortably in the place intended for theLammermuir farmer. He had taken the mail bags, such as appeared tohave anything of value in them, turned them inside out, burned them inhis baker's furnace, and hidden away the rings (which he could notmelt) in some of his private _caches_.

  "Yet when I asked him why he had done the deed at all, he would onlyreply, 'I saw Harry passing by, just when I had done whetting my knife,and I thought I would try it on him!'"